Chapter Seven – Shadows in the Trees

The forest had gone too quiet. Even the owls had stopped calling. I stood beside Dorian, the heat of him steady against the night chill, and waited. The bond between us hummed, tense and alive, as if it too was listening.

The pack formed a half circle, weapons ready, breath fogging. Their fear was a sharp scent, but no one broke rank. They had followed Dorian into blood and back again. They would do it a hundred times more.

The scout pointed at the treeline. Movement. Slow, deliberate. Not the scatter of rogues retreating. This was something else.

I felt the earth shift beneath my feet. The roots whispered like a warning. My wolf pressed against my skin, restless, her growl vibrating in my ribs.

A figure stepped out. Cloaked, hood shadowing his face. He moved like he had no need to rush, like the field of bodies and blood was nothing to him. The rogues had scattered at his command. Whoever he was, he held them in his hand.

Dorian’s jaw tightened. “Stay back,” he told the pack. His voice was iron. Then, to me, without looking, “You don’t move unless I say.”

My pulse jumped, but I nodded. I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing or just surrendering to the command in his tone.

The hooded man stopped at the edge of the firelight. “Alpha Dorian,” he said, voice smooth, too calm for this battlefield. “So predictable. Guard your borders. Bleed for them. And for what? Wolves who will never love you as much as they fear you?”

The words slid through the silence like knives. Some of the younger wolves shifted uneasily. Dorian stood steady, shoulders broad, gaze hard.

“You crossed into my land,” Dorian said. “You don’t leave alive.”

The man chuckled. It was low and humorless. He raised his head, and I saw his eyes. Silver. Not the silver of moonlight, but sharp, metallic, unnatural. They caught the fire and held it like mirrors.

Every instinct in me screamed danger. My wolf snarled, claws itching beneath my skin.

The man’s gaze slid to me. He tilted his head, studying, as if I were a curiosity. “Ah,” he said softly. “So the whispers were true. The earth answers her.”

Heat shot through me. I hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved, yet he knew. My hands curled into fists.

Dorian stepped forward, blocking me from view. “You won’t touch her.”

The man’s smile was slow. “So protective. And yet, Alpha, isn’t she the greatest threat standing in your ranks? Power born from the old blood. Power even you cannot leash.”

The pack stirred at that. Old blood. The phrase carried weight, history that lived in warning tales and half-forgotten songs. I felt their eyes on me, suspicion cutting through the relief they’d shown minutes ago.

I swallowed, throat tight. My chest hurt with the urge to run, but I stood my ground.

Dorian’s voice dropped low, dangerous. “Say another word and you’ll choke on it.”

The man laughed, not afraid, not even pretending to be. He lifted a hand, palm open. The air shivered, a ripple like heat off stone. Behind him, the trees bent, branches groaning under an invisible weight.

I felt the ground pull at me, begging to rise, to answer. The power inside surged like a tide, but Dorian’s command held me still. His presence was an anchor, heavy and unyielding.

The hooded man’s silver eyes glowed brighter. “War is coming, Alpha. Not of rogues and packs, but of something older. She is the key. You can’t keep her hidden forever.”

Before Dorian could strike, the man stepped back. His body shimmered, blurred, then folded into the shadows. Gone. The forest swallowed him whole.

Silence.

The pack exhaled as one, the release of breath they didn’t know they were holding. Some shifted uneasily, claws scraping the dirt.

Dorian turned slowly, eyes sweeping his wolves. “No one speaks of this,” he said, voice sharp. “Not outside this circle. Not to anyone. Do you understand?”

They answered in unison, a low chorus. Yes, Alpha.

He looked at me then. His eyes pinned me, unreadable, but burning. “Inside. Now.”

I wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his face stripped the words from my tongue. I followed him back toward the house.

The warriors stayed behind to guard the ridge. Their whispers followed me, though they thought I couldn’t hear. Old blood. Dangerous. Necessary.

Inside, the silence was worse. Dorian paced the length of the hall, blood drying on his shirt, muscles taut with rage. He stopped, fists clenched, then turned on me.

“What were you thinking?” His voice was low, but sharp enough to cut. “You disobeyed me. Again.”

I lifted my chin, though my heart hammered. “If I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

The words hit him. His jaw flexed. For a moment, silence pressed between us, heavier than battle.

He stepped closer, too close, his presence filling every breath. “That power,” he said. “You can’t control it. You think you saved me? You painted a target on yourself. On this pack.”

His words burned. Shame and anger tangled inside me. “I didn’t ask for this,” I snapped. “I didn’t ask to be your mate. Or your problem.”

The bond flared hot between us, wild and aching. His eyes darkened, wolf rising. For a heartbeat I thought he would kiss me, or kill me, or both.

Instead, he turned sharply away, fists trembling. He pressed his palms against the wall like he needed to hold the house up to keep from breaking.

I stared at his back, throat tight, every word I wanted to say burning holes in me.

Then he spoke, softer, raw. “If you die, Selene… I die with you. Do you understand that?”

The admission stunned me. I couldn’t breathe. The bond pulsed between us, cruel and tender all at once.

Before I could answer, the front door banged open. A warrior stumbled in, bleeding, breathless. His eyes were wild.

“Alpha,” he gasped. “The eastern border. Fires. More rogues. Dozens.”

Dorian straightened, his rage shifting into focus, into command. He grabbed his weapons without hesitation.

Then his gaze found me again. “Stay close,” he said, the same words as before, but this time his tone held no distance, no coldness. This time it sounded like a vow.

I nodded, because there was no other choice. The earth thrummed under my feet, restless, waiting.

War wasn’t coming. It had already begun.

To be continued…

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